by S. J. West
“Bond?” I ask, thinking it an odd word to use. “What kind of bond are you talking about?”
Julian’s expression becomes drawn with uncertainty. I sense he’s worried how I’ll react to his answer.
“Generations of your family have been bonded to me. We provide each other with what the other one needs.”
“You’re being a little too cryptic with your answers,” I say, feeling slightly frustrated. “All you’re doing is forcing me to ask more questions. Just tell me what’s going on. I’m smart. I feel confident I’ll be able to follow along.”
A corner of Julian’s mouth lifts in a half smile. Well, I’m glad my frustration is amusing him, not.
“All right, if that’s the way you want it.” He leans forward in his seat, hands clasped before him, looking me earnestly in the eyes. “I’m a vampire and your family has been bonded to me for the past four hundred years. Only your blood can satisfy my thirst and give me the strength I need to survive, and only I can satisfy the ache you feel inside.”
I stare at him for a moment, attempting to work through what he just said. The first thing that comes to my mind is that he’s a lunatic. The second possibility that crosses my mind is that I’m being punked. I let my gaze travel around the room, looking for a hidden camera. Both ideas seem ludicrous, but more plausible than believing he’s a real vampire. I decide to try to make light of the situation. If he is crazy, it might prevent him from attacking me while he’s living in his delusional world. If I’m being filmed, at least I’ll come off as having a sense of humor about it.
“That last part sounded like a really bad come-on line,” I try to joke. “You haven’t just escaped from some insane asylum, have you?” I look at Helen. “Either of you?”
“No, dear, I’m afraid we’re both perfectly sane and sober,” Helen replies indulgently. “Julian is telling you the truth.”
“So, you’re a vampire?” I ask him skeptically.
He sits back in his seat. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Are you a vampire, too?” I ask Helen.
“No.” She smiles as if I’ve amused her with my question. “I’ve just had an unnaturally long life.”
She did say something about raising generations of my family when I first came through the door.
“So how old are you?” I know you aren’t supposed to ask a woman her age, but I get the feeling Helen won’t mind answering my question.
“Oh,” she tilts her head to the right as her eyes drift off, looking at nothing in particular. I begin to wonder if she’s doing the math in her head. “Almost three-hundred now, I think.” She looks back at me and shrugs her shoulders slightly. “After the first hundred years I stopped counting.”
“Yeah.” I’ve had about enough of Crazyville for one night. I stand from my seat on the settee. “Well, I think I should be leaving now. I hope you two enjoy living in your little fantasy world together, but I’m afraid I’m not on the same level of crazy as the two of you seem to be. I have a real life I need to be getting back to.”
Julian quickly stands from his chair and strolls over to the mantel above the fireplace to retrieve something. He turns back around and hands me a clear jewel case with a DVD inside it labeled Clarissa.
“Watch this,” he urges me. “Your mother left it for your grandfather and me before she left us. Maybe it will help you understand that what’s happening to you is real and prove to you that we aren’t insane.” He says the last word with a touch of amusement.
I take the case, if for no other reason than to find out if there really is a video of my mother on the DVD.
I rush out of the house as quickly as I can without making a fool out of myself by running hysterically back to my car. Thankfully, neither of them tries to follow me out. The drive back to my apartment seems to take forever. Once I reach the safety of my own home, I throw my purse down on the couch and kneel in front of the TV, fumbling in my haste to turn the DVD player on and insert the disk Julian gave me. Within seconds, my mother appears on the screen. She’s younger than I remember and very pregnant.
“Are you ready yet?” she asks someone, presumably the person operating the camera.
“Yeah, go ahead,” the off-camera voice says. I immediately recognize it as belonging to my father.
Seeing my mother look so young and full of life almost had me in tears, but hearing my father’s voice makes me burst into sobs. All my feelings of loss and missed moments with them bubbles to the surface, making me relive their passing all over again.
“Dad, Julian,” my mom says into the camera. “I know this is a cowardly way to do this, but there’s no way I can say what I need to face to face. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave.” She almost cries saying the last word. I can see the glistening of unshed tears in her eyes as she attempts to hold her emotions in check. After she pulls herself together, she finishes what she started.
“I want you both to know that I love you dearly. You’re two of the best people I know in this world, and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me in time. I need to leave you both in order to give my little Sarah a normal life.” She lovingly rests a protective hand on her protruding belly. “I want her to have a regular life for as long as she can without having to worry about vampires and everything else that’s associated with our world. I hope you can understand my decision and not hate me for it,” she pleads into the camera. “I promise to return when you die, Daddy. Please forgive me for leaving you like this, but you’ve had me by your side for the past twenty-five years of my life. I want to give Sarah all of me while I can, before I inherit the bond to Julian from you. Julian, I hope you can understand how important it is to me for Sarah to have an ordinary human existence while she can. I want her to experience life the way it’s meant to be lived. I don’t resent the fact that you and I will one day be bonded to one another, and I don’t resent the fact that one day you and Sarah will be bonded. It’s just…” My mother seems a little lost for words to adequately explain everything she’s feeling.
“Anyway, Sarah’s father and I will be moving somewhere I doubt either of you will ever think to look for us. Julian, you know as well as I do that once my father dies neither of us will be able to hide from the other. Hopefully, you’ll live a long, long time, Daddy. At least long enough for Sarah and me to make a lifetime of memories before my life is no longer my own.” She blows a kiss into the camera. “I love you both. Please forgive me for leaving you.”
Seeing my mother again and hearing her voice is more than I can bear. I continue to cry, unable to make myself stop. The pain of losing her and my father feels like a fresh wound ripping through my heart. I can’t prevent myself from replaying the DVD at least a hundred more times just so I can see my mother’s face and listen to her words. Eventually, what she’s saying sinks in between my sobs. What Julian told me is the truth. He wasn’t joking, and he isn’t crazy.
Eventually, I begin to make peace with what’s expected of me.
I only wish the normal life my mother yearned for me to live could have lasted a little while longer.
I decide to take a shower and change my clothes before I go back over to the house on Bayou Road. Even though it’s almost three in the morning, I’m sure Julian is awaiting my return. He has to know my desire to be with him again is far too strong for me to ignore. To be honest, I feel trapped. Whether I like it or not, he and I are permanently connected to one another by some sort of mystical ‘bond’. The vow of ’til death do we part seems to be literal for us from what my mother said in the video. But what does it all mean? What was my mother talking about when she said “everything else that’s associated with our world”? What else is out there that I need to know about besides vampires?
I suppose the one question that keeps running through my mind is: why didn’t she better prepare me for my future? Maybe she planned to tell me on my sixteenth birthday: “Oh, and by the way, along with the car we got you, I should probably mention that you’ll also have
the honor of inheriting a gorgeous, albeit moody, vampire when I die.”
I suppose my mother thought she had plenty of time to inform me about my inheritance. I was only ten when she and my father perished in the fire. It’s obvious she never thought about dying at such an early age. Who does? From what she said in the video, she wanted me to have an ordinary life for as long as I could. Clearly, it was something she never had the chance to live. It might sound odd, but I feel like this experience has given me the opportunity to know my mother a little bit better.
My mom was one of those rare individuals who always viewed life through rose-colored glasses. I don’t think I ever saw her sad, or mad for that matter. She never raised her voice to me or disciplined me too stringently. She made sure I grew up in a loving environment that fostered exploration and made me confident enough in my own skin to trust my decision-making skills. She wasn’t just my mother. She was my friend and confidante. The more I think about her the larger the void she left in my life seems to grow. I push her memory to the back of my mind for now. I have problems in the here and now that need to be dealt with as quickly as possible.
By the time I park in front of Julian’s house again, it’s almost five o’clock in the morning. Will he have to go back into his coffin before the sun rises? Most of the vampires I’ve seen in movies and TV shows usually burn to a crisp in a blazing heat of glory if even one ray of sun touches their skin. Is he like that? Considering how pale he is, I can well imagine he hasn’t seen the sun in the past four hundred years.
After a while, I realize sitting in my car isn’t going to provide me with the answers I need, and I can’t ignore the overpowering desire I feel to be with Julian again.
As I walk up to the front door, I know it’s unnecessary to knock and announce my arrival to the man waiting inside. He already knows I’m here. When I reach the door, I simply open it as if I’m walking into my own home. Straightaway, I feel his presence in the direction of the living room, patiently waiting for me to return to him.
I find Julian sitting in the same wingback chair as before, his eyes closed and head tilted back on the headrest as if he’s taking a nap. He looks even more handsome in such a relaxed pose, making it difficult for me to take my eyes off him. When he does finally open his eyes, he slowly turns his head to the side to look up at me.
“Are you ready to discuss things now?” he asks in a quiet voice, without a trace of impatience or condescension.
His face remains impassive, but I know he’s pleased to see me again. Well, more than pleased; he’s overjoyed that I came back to him so quickly. His feelings both overwhelm and comfort me. I get the impression he doesn’t show his emotions readily to others. For one of the few times in my life, I’m thankful for my empathic abilities.
I retake my spot on the settee and direct my attention towards Julian. He watches me with a guarded expression. I think he fears I’ll run out of the house again, but he should know I can’t do that. Even if I wanted to turn my back on him, I don’t believe I would physically be able to leave. Whether I like it or not, we’re bound to one another for the rest of my life. All I want now is to know why.
“I’m sorry about what I said to you earlier,” I begin. “But you can’t blame me for thinking you and Helen were insane. I mean, you tell me that you’re a vampire, and that Helen is three hundred years old. Did you actually expect me to believe all of that on just your word? What sane person wouldn’t have some doubt?”
Julian sighs in resignation. “Like I said earlier, Sarah, I wish your mother had better prepared you for this while you were still young. As humans grow older, they become more closed-minded and resistant to the possibility that creatures such as myself exist in the real world around them.”
“I understand why she didn’t,” I say, defending the choices my mother made for me. “She just wanted me to have a normal life while I could.”
“But she knew your future,” he reminds me gently. “She knew you would have to share the bond with me eventually.”
“Tell me about this bond.” I feel a need to get off the subject of my mother’s failings in preparing me for my life. “Why are we connected? Why does being near you make me feel so much better?”
“Why we are connected the way we are is a mystery, even to me. I wish I could give you a complete answer to that question but I can’t. All I can do is tell you what I’ve been able to piece together through the years.”
I know he isn’t eager to fill in all the blanks for me, yet he feels obligated to tell me as much of his story as possible.
“Have you ever heard of Erzsebet, or Elizabeth, Bathory?” he asks.
I immediately shake my head. “No, I haven’t. Should I have?”
“Not necessarily. She was born in 1560, and I believe her death is the reason descendants from your family line and I are bonded to one another.”
“Did she make you into a vampire? Was she a vampire?”
“Patience,” Julian says with a wry grin, but I know that he’s secretly pleased by my curiosity. “I promise to answer all of your questions, but it will take some time, Sarah. My world, the world your mother tried to protect you from all these years, is very complicated. You won’t be able to learn everything there is to know in a single day. I’ve lived four hundred years and still don’t know everything about it.”
“I’m sorry if I sound pushy,” I apologize. “It’s just that all of this is like some sort of fairytale.”
“It’s far from a fairytale,” he says in a grave voice. There’s a warning in his eyes, cautioning me not to be so enthusiastic. “Parts of it are more like a nightmare.”
“Please,” I say, sitting back on the settee and trying to rein in my natural inquisitiveness, “continue. I’ll try not to interrupt you again.”
Julian doesn’t resume telling me his story right away. He simply looks at me as if he’s trying to decide something. I can feel him warring with himself, but then a peaceful aura surrounds him once he’s made a decision. Finally, he stands from his chair and walks over to me, taking the empty spot beside me. A sense of calm surrounds me like a pool of bliss, washing away my anxiousness.
“Thank you,” I tell him, and I know I don’t have to go into an awkward explanation about why I’m thanking him. I find comfort in the fact that he needed to be nearer to me as much as I needed him close.
“And thank you for coming back to me so quickly,” he replies with an almost- smile. “I was worried you might try to run away. As you said, all of this is a bit insane, and you seem like a very logical person. Quite frankly I’m surprised you’re sitting here, willing to listen to what I have to say.”
“You should thank my mother for leaving you that video,” I tell him. “If I hadn’t heard her confirm the existence of this bond, I wouldn’t have come back. I would have just lived with this ache I feel.”
“Then we would have both perished.”
Julian’s statement was made so matter-of-factly that it takes my brain a moment to accept what he said.
“Are you telling me,” I say, “that if I don’t give in to everything that goes with this bond between us that we could die?”
“In a way,” he says simply, without elaboration.
“I think you need to start explaining things to me,” I tell him.
Julian takes a deep breath before he begins.
“In 1575, Elizabeth married Count Ferencz Nadasady and earned the title of countess. Since her family was more prestigious than Ferencz’s, he accepted her surname of Bathory. They were extremely wealthy back then. I believe they had up to ten castles at one time, but lived in Cachtice Castle in northern Slovakia for most of their marriage. Neither of them were good people. Ferencz was infamous for being a sadist and gaining joy from torturing others. Elizabeth was only fifteen when they married, and she eagerly went along with the things her husband showed her. After a while she began enjoying the torture just as much as he did, even more so I think. The Bathory family was an i
nbred lot. Back then, they had no understanding of genetics, or how inbreeding can actually decrease the mental capacity of progeny. If you consider that fact and the way her husband behaved, it’s no wonder she turned into a serial killer.”
“How many people did she kill?” I have to ask, finding myself morbidly fascinated by the story.
“During the trial, the reported number went well above six hundred, but that was an exaggerated estimate. The real number was a little over a hundred within a thirty-year timeframe.”
“Still,” I say, unable to comprehend how someone could purposely kill so many people, “quite a lot for one person to murder.”
“She didn’t do it all alone,” he tells me with a small shake of his head. “She had the help of a few trusted friends within her inner circle. And…” Julian stops. I see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows hard. I know what he needs to say next is hard for him to admit. He breaks eye contact with me, and I can feel him start to withdraw into himself.
I reach out, resting a light hand on his arm closest to me. “Don’t pull away,” I beg him, knowing that if I don’t stop him from retreating emotionally from me now I’ll never be able to get this close to him again. “Nothing you can tell me will make me leave you.”
I feel his body relax underneath my touch, yet his emotions are still in turmoil as he considers his options.
“I helped her,” he confesses with a troubled frown.
Automatically I pull my hand away from him, feeling as if I shouldn’t have just made my declaration that I would never leave him.
“You tortured people?” I ask, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
Julian shakes his head. “No, but I might as well have.”
